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“Is this about the blue haired boy, whose picture you keep in your wallet?”
The question made him freeze.
His mind flashing an image of a polaroid picture of a blue haired boy with a heart shaped smile, cherry blossom flowers falling delicately around him, the sun hitting his face in a way that made him seem radiant.
Minho was currently sitting in a bar beside one of the few friends he has, Chan. They met a few weeks after he transferred to a new university. Chan had run into Minho by accident trying to make it on time for one of his classes and spilled his coffee all over him. The older had let him a spare shirt from his bag and gave him his number so he could return the shirt later. The pair realized they had a few of the same classes and decided they would study together. Chan had asked if he wanted to go to a bar tonight to ‘let loose’ . The guy was always saying odd things like that, but Minho agreed what else he would do with his open Friday evening.
“Wait, you snooped in my wallet?”
“Stop deflecting, the boy with the blue hair, what’s the deal with you two?” Chan pressed further.
There was so much he could say. How was he supposed to describe someone who meant more to him than life itself? He never really prepared what to say to someone if they asked about him. He moved five hours away because just being there hurt way too much. All of the memories felt far too much like suffocating.
He couldn’t keep walking past the same places they used to frequent together and him not being there with him.
***
The sunlight was peaking through the trees, as the pair walked past the rusty old playground.
“Come on Hyung, let's go on the swings!”
Minho looked at the other whose smile shined brighter than a thousand suns. He sighed even though the swings were creaking and the bolts holding them in place looked like they would fall out at any minute, he still said yes, he always did. All the boy had to do was look at him and smile and Minho would give him the entire world.
***
When Minho had walked by that old playground going home from work, he could still hear the laughter and see the joy of the boy, but only for a moment, the imaginary sounds faded back into reality. The wind is sweeping away the memory like dust.
That was the final straw for him. He couldn’t take the memories of the past anymore, but he couldn’t escape them. Of course he couldn't, the other had been right there beside him his whole life. There were childhood best friends after all, but now one was gone and the other stood alone, frozen at a playground. He had to get out. That night he called his parents and informed his university that he was transferring somewhere far away.
***
That was six months ago.
Now he was sitting in a bar not knowing a single word to say.
“Uhh.. we used to be really close friends?” The answer came out more like a question.
Chan had looked at him with a playful disbelieving glare. “Mhm, if that’s what you say.”
“I’m not lying.” Minho tried.
***
Minho wasn’t lying entirely. They were extremely close friends. They had grown up on the same street their entire lives. Minho is a grade above the other. Stood up against bullies at school for each other. If you saw one of them you probably would see the other not far behind.
Minho couldn’t lie to himself; he had had feelings for the boy for a while, always too cowardly to speak up and say something. He was never really good at that. The younger was always there to be his voice. That’s how they worked.
But one day last summer they were sitting side by side on Minho’s bed watching a movie when the older looked down at the other, tattered Spider-Man shirt, messy hair and all. They both gazed into each other’s eyes, unspoken questions pounded like drums in their hearts.
Eventually their eyes flickered shut. Warm lips slotting against each other. Minho’s hand running through blue locks of hair. The younger’s hand intertwined with Minho’s other hand. Breathless when they pulled apart, still tangled together in a mess and blankets and limbs. That evening they lay in each other’s arms, lips tinted red and hands clasped together.
They never made anything official. But for that one summer, they were beautiful.
***
“Minho I get it, it’s okay, you don’t need to tell me anything. Chan took a deep breath in. “ But we’ve been friends for a few months and I want to get to know you.”
“You’re right Hyung, I'm sorry. I’ll try to open up to you guys more.”
Thankfully for Minho, Chan had left it at that.
***
When Minho went to visit his parents during his winter break, he strolled past a small flower shop. He had no idea what events caused him to be standing outside holding a small bundle of bright marigolds.
He smiled, peering up at the sun and then looking down.
“Hey Sungie.”